Read Wolf Lover: Konochur (New Scotia Pack Book 2) Online
Authors: Victoria Danann
Conn screwed up his face with a mix of expressions from frustration to aggravation of the most perplexed sort. “For Spirit’s sake, human. I’ll just do this myself.”
Luna grew serious. “You will not do any such thing, Conn. She’s had enough torment at her doorstep without having to deal with a horndog wolf dry humping the door jamb.”
He was clearly confused. “I do no’ know what a horndog is, but if I take yer meanin’, ‘tis no’ as complimentary as I’d like. That aside, I can see that ‘twas wrong to ask for help here. So I’ll just be on my way.”
Luna narrowed her eyes. “Very well. Just make sure that ‘on your way’ you don’t pass by the widow’s house.”
Conn gave her a glare and started for the open doorway. Luna hurried round and stepped in front of him. “I’ll be needing your word, Conn. That you will leave her alone.”
Conn towered over Luna when he stepped closer, but she didn’t give way. “I’ll be needin’ you to step away from the door, Luna.”
Luna blocked the door with her arms. “Promise me.”
“Are you movin’ away from the door?”
“Not until you promise you will leave the widow alone.”
“Can ye be dissuaded from this course?”
“No,” Luna said firmly, her chin in the air.
Conn watched as Lestriv sat her little girl by the entrance to the chicken pen. With a wicker basket over her arm she began struggling to open the gate. It was mostly mesh, but framed and supported with heavy posts made from four inch tree trunks. One of the hinges had loosened in such a way as to make the gate unwieldy and hard to manage.
Lessie jumped when she heard a voice close behind her. It was deep, but soft and pleasant, and gave no cause for alarm.
“Here. Let me help with that.”
She turned to look directly up into Conn’s face and immediately blushed, partly because of the thought that he was sexy, beautiful and charismatically compelling, and partly from guilt for noticing that just a week after her husband’s funeral. When Conn reached past her to take hold of the gate, she stepped back, but not before he noticed that her scent was intoxicating as peach trumpet vine. He took a deep whiff.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Hmmm? Oh, no’ a thin’. What’s yer name?” he asked.
She looked around, wiping her hands on her apron. “Lestriv,” she said without looking at him.
He repeated her name slowly, then smiled. “’Tis hard to say.”
Conn thought he saw surprise on her face as her eyes jerked to his. That was just before she seemed to get a faraway look like she was no longer actually seeing him.
“Lestriv?”
He watched her face and she refocused her attention on him, on the here and now. “People usually call me Lessie.”
“Ah. Much better. And what’s yer name?” He looked at the little girl and smiled. She was a beautiful child with mahogany-colored hair and eyes the same gray color as the skies of his homeland in northern Scotia.
The child didn’t react to him or answer until her mother prompted her. “Say your name, love.”
“Lileeee.”
Conn smiled.
“Her father named her Liluye. It means ‘hawk singing while soaring’. We call her Lily and she just turned four.”
Conn looked down at the child. “Hello, Lily. I’m Conn.” He looked at Lessie. “Well, actually ‘tis Konuchur, but most people call me Conn and I’d like it if ye would as well.” As an afterthought he decided to add his credentials. “I’m second to the alpha of New Scotia.”
“I know who you are.”
“Do ye?” Conn seemed surprised.
Lessie smiled a little. “Everyone, well, at least all the females know who you are. Your reputation is, um, well-known?” Conn looked away and began fiddling with the misbehaving hinge. Lessie thought she saw a red flush touch his cheeks. “What does Konuchur mean?”
Conn turned his face away and mumbled something.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t understand.”
When he turned toward her, Lessie could see that she was right about the fact that his face was flushed. He appeared to be nervous and fidgety. “Wolf lover,” he said under his breath.
Lessie stared for a moment and then chuckled. “Of course.”
“I’m goin’ to need to go get some tools to fix this. I can prop it open so you can get inside and will be back before ye’re ready to go.”
“Alright. You don’t have to do this though. I can get someone to fix it.”
“I’m someone,” Conn countered.
“Well, of course, you are.” Lestriv was blushing again and her hands were fluttering nervously. “I meant one of the men who live here.”
The lie spilled out without having been thought through as well as it could have been. “Actually I’ve been assigned by the Council to look after ye and make sure that ye have everythin’ ye need. Ye and yer family.” He glanced at Lily.
Lessie shifted her weight back on her heels. “That was very thoughtful of them, but I’m not sure we…” She looked down at Lily.
“Do no’ give it a care. I’m happy to do what I can.”
Lessie opened her mouth to say something, but Conn wrenched open the gate with brute force. “In ye go before the chicks take to the hills.” She grabbed Lily’s hand and the two of them stepped inside. “Back in a few minutes.”
Lessie nodded and gave him a small, shy smile. “Alright.”
True to his word, Conn was back with tools before Lessie had finished gathering eggs. She was alternating between watching Lily play and watching Conn work on the hinge, when she heard a deafening roar and looked up to see the alpha, Stalkson Grey, bearing down on Conn with rage written all over his face and posture.
When Lessie married Jimmy Clear Eyes, Stalkson Grey became her alpha as well. She had no fear of him because she knew him to be both fair and kind, but she had also seen enough to know that an infuriated alpha is a very bad thing.
To his credit, or his foolishness, Conn did not step back when his uncle stopped within inches of his face. “Uncle,” Conn acknowledged with casual simplicity and a calm that seemed entirely out of keeping with the situation. He held the alpha’s gaze and refused to look away, which Lessie took as an indication that Conn was ready to die.
Stalkson Grey was seething. “Before I rip the throat from your neck, would you care to explain why you left my mate tied to a chair?”
“Aye. We had a disagreement. One that could no’ be resolved otherwise.” Grey’s eyes went wide at the audacity of Conn’s response. “I had no’ wish to hurt her, and would ne’er do so, o’ course, but she had set herself against my purpose and was refusin’ to allow me through the door.”
Grey blinked three times. “You’re saying that my mate attempted to prevent your departure from the clinic? Why would she do that?”
Conn glanced toward Lestriv. “Because she disagreed with the Council’s decision to assign me as the widow’s caretaker, in her husband’s absence.”
Grey shook his head in confusion. “She…”
It was then that Grey noticed Lessie holding a basket of eggs and anxiously observing the exchange. Grey turned back to Conn whose eyes were silently pleading with his uncle to not blow his cover. Grey’s face softened when he recognized the mate fever written all over his nephew.
The alpha quickly turned his back on the chicken coop because he knew he could suppress outright laughter with enough exercise of will, but would not be able to stop the smile pulled at his mouth over Conn’s predicament. Conn looked aloof on the outside, but was a bundle of nerves within as he waited for his uncle to finish whatever he was doing with his back turned.
When Grey swung around, he nodded to Lessie, acknowledging her presence for the first time. She said, “It was very nice of the Council to make sure that Lily and I are taken care of. I know we haven’t had a chance to talk about it since…” She trailed off as if she couldn’t finish that thought. “But I suppose I could go back home, since Jimmy is… gone.”
Grey looked at Lestriv with such compassion. He’d been a widower himself and knew a thing or two about grief and being left with a child to raise. He’d also been lucky enough to get a second chance at love and hoped that Lessie would have the same good fortune.
“Of course we want you to stay with us, Lessie. This is your home. You’re as much a part of the tribe as anyone here.”
Lestriv was genuinely honored by that simple speech. “Thank you, Alpha.”
“As far as the Council assigning Conn to look after you,” he glanced at Conn, who was shaking his head slightly with an expression so pained it looked like he was having a heart attack, “I agree that it was a nice idea.” Conn let out the breath he was holding in a whoosh of relief that made Grey smile again. To Conn he said, “I’ll give your aunt your profound apologies,” he said pointedly, “and make explanations. I know for a fact that she’s forgiving about desperation.”
“Thank ye, Uncle.”
“I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of you?”
Conn almost beamed. “I suspect so.”
“Good day, Lessie.”
“Good day, Alpha.”
Conn turned to Lessie and smiled looking confident and at ease for the first time since he’d arrived at the chicken pen. After a few minutes he had the hinge working properly and tested the gate by letting it swing back and forth a few times. One of the hens, who apparently didn’t know the difference between a human and a werewolf, tried to get through the gate. Conn swooped her up in a blur of movement and threw her into the air so that she flew for a few seconds before lighting in the middle of the pen. Lily let out a delighted squeal followed by a heart-melting series of giggles.
Conn grinned at her. “Want to see it again?”
Lily nodded enthusiastically and showed off a grin that was missing a tooth.
For the next half hour, Conn gave the hens the thrill of a few seconds of flight, while Lily and her mother laughed. He treasured that laughter, embedding the sound deep in his heart, and thought that curbing the widow’s sadness, even for a short while, far overshadowed the usefulness of fixing the chicken coop gate.
Conn insisted on carrying both the eggs and Lily on the walk back to the cottage. “Is there something else around the house that I might do while I’m here?”
“No,” Lessie shook her head and smiled politely. “We’re fine.” She turned toward the door, but hesitated and turned back again. “I’ve had an elk stew simmering on the hearth since this morning. If you’d like to join us for midday meal? Before you start home?”
Conn was about ten inches taller than Lessie. As he looked down at her, he had the errant thought that ten inches was probably the perfect difference in height between a wolf and his mate. “I’d be honored if ye’re certain there’s enough.”
“There’s plenty,” Lessie said.
The cottage was small and humble, but comforting in its homey rusticity. It also had that elusive factor, a sense of harmonious energy. It was a sense that the occupants loved each other and that arguments were rare.
The stew was to Conn’s liking. When he reached for the salt, Lessie smiled.
“What?”
“Jimmy liked a lot of salt on his food. Maybe werewolves like more salt than humans.”
“Maybe. We’re lucky to have the great salt plain on the other side of the mountain range. ‘Tis big enough to keep all the tribes satisfied. There will no’ be any salt wars here.”
“Salt wars,” she said. “Sounds so silly compared to dragon wars.”
Conn put down his spoon and said slowly, “We have a plan. They will no’ be here much longer.” His gaze locked on Lessie’s eyes. “Do ye want to tell me about him?”
“Him? Jimmy?”
Conn nodded.
“Well,” she smiled sadly, “you know the story about how the young wolves without mates came bride-shopping to my world.” She looked away like she was remembering a happy time. “I guess I fell for Jimmy the instant I saw him. I was the first girl he saw. Literally. And I guess I was lucky that he didn’t just nod and keep looking. For something better.”
Conn wanted to interrupt and assure her that there was no such thing as ‘something better’, but he kept quiet.
“He was my first and only romance. We had a good life and I never thought that I’d be the one lighting a torch to his pyre. He was the one who was practically immortal.” Conn noticed that her eyes had glazed over and that she was absently tracing circles on her belly. When her eyes refocused, she said, “I’m pregnant. I don’t know if you knew that.”
Conn nodded. “I guessed as much. ‘Tis hard to keep secrets from werewolves. We notice details, if no’ with our eyes, then with our noses. We can even smell sadness.”
“You can?” She seemed amazed by that. “I wonder what that would be like.”
“Has it been hard to live with wolves?”
She grinned in response. “Oh, no. Not at all. In some ways werewolf society makes more sense than human society.”
“In what ways?”
She looked thoughtful while she chewed a bite of stew. When she was finished, she said, “Well, for instance, assigning someone to watch over a widow? That’s pretty special.”
For the first time Conn felt guilty about the lie. “I’m no’ sure ‘tis a common thin’. But I’m glad I’m the one privileged to make sure that the two of ye are well.”